


safe (food)

by tealeafthief



Series: autistic aziraphale + genderfluid crowley [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (not graphic at all i promise just disordered eating in relation to an autistic character), Autism, Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Food, Gabriel is a dick, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Internalised ableism, Nausea, Past Abuse, Sickfic, Stimming, its not a plot point he is just round and i love him, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25255579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealeafthief/pseuds/tealeafthief
Summary: Bad days were normal. Hell, Crowley had bad days too, they just took a very different shape to Aziraphale’s ones. They had helped their partner through many, and would surely do so through many more, but this was Aziraphale’s third Bad Day in a row, and something was different.Aziraphale wasn’t eating.*Aziraphale's sensory issues are making it impossible to eat during a rough period, but there might be some way for Crowley to help.(you don't NEED to have read 'crossed wires' for this to make sense but it might be helpful!)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: autistic aziraphale + genderfluid crowley [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1829674
Comments: 23
Kudos: 270





	safe (food)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> I just wanted to thank you all for the outpouring of love from my last autistic!Aziraphale fic, and I will go through and reply to all the comments, I've just felt a bit overwhelmed by them. But thank you, they've all been so wonderful, and it's crazy seeing the amount of people with experiences like mine.
> 
> CW for this chapter: the key word is food here. Food descriptors, mentions of a prolonged period without food, descriptions of nausea and discomfort (but NO vomiting). Aziraphale does not have an eating disorder, just disordered eating as a result of his autism, but if you're triggered by ED material this may not be the fic for you! I promise the next one will be fluffier. Also just for some light self-bashing on Aziraphale's part.
> 
> Also, Crowley goes by they/them pronouns for this fic!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Crowley was concerned. And concern wasn’t a good look on a demon.

Aziraphale had been having a few Bad Days, which was normally fine. It usually meant Crowley would pop off to watch Golden Girls for a bit when he needed alone time, bring him cocoa when he wanted company again and, if Aziraphale was feeling up to physical touch, give him some very demonic cuddles and head kisses. Sometimes, but not always, snake hugs were easier for Aziraphale to accept, and so Crowley would shift and wrap themself around their wonderfully plump angel and give him the pressure he was craving without any of the accidental skin on skin contact.

Bad days were normal. Hell, Crowley had bad days too, they just took a very different shape to Aziraphale’s ones. They had helped their partner through many, and would surely do so through many more, but this was Aziraphale’s third Bad Day in a row, and something was different.

Aziraphale wasn’t eating.

Any attempt at eating had made Aziraphale turn green at best and gag and heave at worst. He had mournfully explained that sometimes, rarely, he had bad days where food was too overwhelming for him, the tastes and textures magnified, making eating, something that usually brought him such joy, a nauseating experience.

Now, ethereal entities, or occult ones for that matter, didn’t usually need to eat. If needs be, their human corporations could run off of sheer willpower. But Aziraphale was used to sustaining his corporation through food, and had been doing it for millenia. And almost three days without food was taking its physical toll. 

He hadn’t lost too much weight yet, thank goodness, but his skin was pale and ashen, and his body trembled. He looked utterly miserable, and Crowley would trade away everything they owned to put a smile on that beautiful face. He was sitting up on the sofa in the backroom currently, a blanket wrapped around his shivering frame and his duck pendant held tightly between his palms. Crowley’s last attempt at feeding him, a chicken noodle soup which they had read was popular amongst autistic people with food-based issues, had ended with Aziraphale spitting it out reflexively, and then crying into Crowley’s chest in shame. He still looked on the verge of tears, almost an hour later.

Crowley came to sit next to him, with enough space to ensure they didn’t touch, and Aziraphale looked towards them with puffy eyes that landed somewhere around Crowley’s throat.

“I’m sor-”

“No, hey, none of that,” Crowley butt in preemptively. “Won’t have you apologising for a reaction you can’t control.”

“But I am!” Aziraphale croaked out indignantly. “I like to eat, and I’m _hungry,_ but I’m just being fussy and difficult and _disgusting_ -”

“Hey, no no no. Touch?” They asked. Aziraphale hesitated, and held out one of his hands in answer. Crowley took it, understanding that that was all Aziraphale could handle right now. “Won’t have any of that bloody slander about my angel, eh? Not even from you. You’re just having a bad time, okay? And we’ll get through it. I’m not angry at you for struggling, angel, I’m not angry _period_ , I just don’t like to see you suffer.”

“You didn’t sign up for childcare.” Aziraphale mumbled.

“You’re right, I didn’t. I signed up for you, and that’s not a chore, not ever. Don’t repeat Gabriel’s lies, okay?” Aziraphale squirmed unhappily.

“They don’t feel like lies today.”

“Well, I promise they are. I’ll call Gabriel a wanker for the both of us until you’re feeling up to it, yeah?” Aziraphale nodded.

“I love you, Crowley.”

“I love you too. You’ll be alright, okay?”

“I know. I’ve gotten through this before, after all, and I didn’t even have you there last time. I’ll be fine.” Aziraphale said softly, trying to put on a brave face. The thought of Aziraphale, hungry and sad and alone without really knowing why, was like a wrecking ball to Crowley’s heart. But they could talk about that another time, if Aziraphale ever wanted to. Crowley just swallowed the information and rubbed a soothing thumb over Aziraphale’s hand.

“Of course you will. Do you remember anything from the last time this happened that might help? Anything we haven’t tried?”

Aziraphale seemed to consider this for a few seconds, and then his eyes widened and briefly met Crowley’s before he cringed a little and looked away. His excitement didn’t die down, and the hand not in Crowley’s flapped at his side as he moved to sit on his knees facing Crowley.

“There’s one thing! It’s the thing that helped the last time it got anywhere near this bad.” Crowley was taken aback by his sudden burst of energy and couldn’t help the grin that snaked its way onto their face.

“What, what was it?”

“It...well...you must promise me first that you won’t laugh.” Aziraphale said sternly. Crowley huffed in amusement, and then realised the angel was still looking at them very seriously. They squeezed his hand just a little tighter for emphasis.

“Angel, I promise you I won’t ever laugh at you, not about this. Doesn’t matter what it is.” Aziraphale seemed to be reassured, and took a deep breath, fiddling with the blanket with his spare hand.

“Right, well, the last time it was this bad, it was like now, where I just couldn’t keep anything down. A-and do you remember those forums, where people talked about having a safe food?” Crowley nodded. “Well, I found a food that I was able to stomach, and even though I still wasn’t able to eat other things until the mood passed, it helped to eat that one thing.”

“Wha- angel, that’s fantastic! What was it? Whatever it is, I’ll get it for you right away, go to the bloody moon if that’s where it is.” Aziraphale turned red.

“Well, I didn’t travel _quite_ so far.”

“What was it, then?”

“...Crepes.”

It took a good few seconds for the penny to drop, and for Aziraphale’s embarrassment to make sense, and at that point Crowley didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But they had promised not to laugh, and they couldn’t very well cry now.

“You were so hungry, feeling so awful, that you trotted off to france _in the middle of a revolution_ just for something comforting to eat? Oh _angel_ …”

“Oh, please don’t Crowley, I know it sounds silly-”

“No, no, s’not that, never that. Just don’t like thinking of you going hungry like that, nearly getting yourself discorporated trying to find something you could eat.”

“Yes, well don’t have too much sympathy for me dear, there were perfectly good crepes in London too. And the brioche, which I could just about stomach. I just wasn’t as bad as I am now, I could afford to be a little hedonistic.”

“Oh yeah, how’d that work out for you?”

“Well, you see, a perfectly dastardly serpent came to my rescue.”

“Oh?”

“And just so happened to take me out for the most _delicious_ crepes afterwards.” Aziraphale smiled, wider than he had all day. “I think I can just about handle one of your hugs now, darling.”

Crowley didn’t need much more encouragement, leaning over to wrap their beautiful, hedonistic angel in their arms, nuzzling the top of his head with their chin. Aziraphale in turn loosely grasped onto Crowley’s shirt, inhaling the comforting familiarity of car leather, brimstone and soil.

“I’ll always take you out for crepes, angel. Any time. Take you out for crepes right now, if you want.”

“Thank you, my dear, but I don’t think I can quite face the outside world yet.” Aziraphale said in an attempt at nonchalance, but Crowley could feel the shudder that went through him, and they held him just a little tighter.

“Of course, don’t you worry. Don’t need any fancy restaurant anyways. I can get you crepes right here.” 

Aziraphale disentangled himself slowly and looked up into Crowley’s eyes questioningly.

“You? Making crepes?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“Not awfully demonic of you, is it?”

“Oh, _shut it._ ”

“Really, you don’t have to, my darling. You’ve already done so much for me the past few days.”

“Exactly, not gonna give up now, am I? Not when I know the thing that might help you. Big mistake telling me that, angel. Should know I won’t pass up on the opportunity to take care of you.” Aziraphale sighed.

“You’re entirely too good to me.” He mumbled, burying his face back into Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley smiled sadly and pressed a light kiss to the top of his head.

“Nah. Just about good enough, angel. Too good is the goal.”

* * *

Half an hour later, Aziraphale was sat cross legged at the kitchen table as Crowley watched the still cooking crepes with the wilting severity of an advanced maths tutor. Cooking was, as it turned out, by no means Crowley’s forte, but what they lacked in skill, they made up for in sheer determination. Crowley, right now, was imagining that the crepes were going to turn out perfectly golden and speckled with brown, naturally sweet but not overbearing. Importantly, sweet enough that Aziraphale could have them plain, as he had expressed that toppings would be a little too much for him at the moment (“although, if we have some powdered sugar that would be marvellous”).

Now, with one last withering glare, Crowley dropped the third crepe onto the plate they had prepared, and folded it like they had with the other two, so that they sat in a row. And, for the final touch, they took the powdered sugar that they had poured into a fine mesh sieve earlier, and delicately tapped it over the sweet treats, leaving the impression of fresh, fluffy snow.

_You better be perfect_ , they growled in their head, _best damn crepes he’s ever had._

The crepes didn’t quiver, not like plants did, but their silence spoke volumes. 

They took a deep breath and brought the plate over to Aziraphale, who was a bundle of nerves under a blanket. Already prepped on the table was a small bowl, in case he needed to spit again, some water, a knife and fork, and a single flower in Aziraphale’s favourite vase. Some might say the flower wasn’t necessary, but those people weren’t Crowley.

“Remember,” they reminded their partner gently as they sat down, “it’s okay if you don’t like it, or you can’t eat it, I won’t be upset with you. Worst comes to worst, I’ll find somewhere to order out from and we’ll try again, okay? No stress.”

Aziraphale nodded in understanding, but his hand still shook a little when he reached for his cutlery. Crowley knew how much Aziraphale hated being sick, and he sent up a little (prayer? more like a threat) that Aziraphale would at least not heave it up again (or else).

Aziraphale held the knife and fork daintily and cut off just the smallest slither off the end of one of the crepes, and first brought it up to his nose. His eyebrows shot up at the scent, and a small smile graced his lips. Taking a deep breath for courage, he brought the fork to his lips and put the slice of crepe into his mouth.

All at once his face lit up as he began to chew, and Crowley swore they had never seen anything so beautiful in their whole life. Well, except maybe the last time they had seen Aziraphale smile, and the time before that. But after days of misery and suffering, watching their love chew on food _that they had made_ with that wonderful expression on his face was almost too much for their demonic heart to bear. 

“Oh, _Crowley_ , it’s utterly divine, so soft and fluffy but also crispy on the outside, and so sweet, it practically melts, even without anything on it. Oh, my darling,” he turned to Crowley, his eyes bright with tears, “it tastes like _love._ ”

“Oh, _angel_ ,” Crowley exhaled, and that was all it took for Aziraphale to start properly crying again, this time out of pure elation as he flopped against Crowley, swallowing his first bite of food in days. Crowley just held him tight as they basked together in the little victory, interrupted only when Aziraphale’s tummy gave a groan of protest.

“I should probably finish my plate.” Aziraphale mused, resting a hand over his stomach. “I don’t think my body likes going this long without food.”

“Excellent idea, love.” Crowley replied, releasing their angel with one final kiss to his head. “There’ll be no empty angel bellies here, not on my watch.”

Aziraphale hummed in acknowledgement, carving off a much larger mouthful of crepe with one utensilled hand whilst the other rapped on the tabletop in pleasure, lost to the bliss of his favourite sweet treats. Crowley rested their chin on their hands, and watched with a small smile.

“Maybe next time I’ll try brioche too…”

**Author's Note:**

> Stay safe kids x


End file.
